


6/10

by hippocampers



Category: History Boys - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Possibly Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 13:33:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12458832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hippocampers/pseuds/hippocampers
Summary: "I can hold my liquor, Donald.”“And that’s why you’re lying on the grass outside instead of dancing your life away to New Order, huh?”





	6/10

“Off so soon, Scrippsy?”

The familiar voice comes from behind, and David turns just in time to see Don manage half a smile as Stuart throws his arms around his neck. Lager sloshes out of the can and soaks uncomfortably into the fabric of Don’s shirt. It’ll stain. Knowing Don, he won’t mind. “No, just heading out for air. Having a nice birthday?”

“Be nicer if I could get properly pissed,” Dakin laughs, too loud. “But yeah. I’m off to watch Timms give Crowther a lap dance – coming?”

Don chuckles, gesturing to the door absently. “Air, Stu,” he turns his head slightly, directing his words straight into Stuart’s ear. Not that there’s much point; Stuart won’t remember them. David’s seen how much the birthday boy had drunk already. Too much. “Have fun. Back in a bit.” And with that, Don has slipped out of Stuart’s grasp, working his way through the busy lounge and away from the synth pop and booze. He spies David on the grass by the pond and gives a slight wave before starting to head over.

He settles onto the grass with an _oomf_ , somehow managing not to spill what David assumes is a vodka & orange. Or maybe it’s just orange. “Hey, you.”

“Hello,” David smiles a little, rolling over onto his stomach to look at Don. “How’s it going inside?”

“Bloody warm,” Don huffs, taking a sip. “And Dakin’s already drunk enough to start waxing lyrical about Irwin’s arse to me of all people, so time for a break.” He pauses. “You okay? You’ve been out here for half an hour.” There’s an expression of genuine concern on his face, and it almost makes David smile.

Almost.

“Kind of. I don’t think alcohol and I get along,” David murmurs, gesturing to the half-empty bottle of red wine lying beside him on the grass.

“Oh? If you’re feeling queasy, I can get you some water—” Don makes to get up, so David reaches out, resting a hand on his knee to stop him.

“No, it’s not that. I can hold my liquor, Donald.”

“And that’s why you’re lying on the grass outside instead of dancing your life away to New Order, huh?” Don grins a little, even as David slaps his leg lightly.

“ _No_. I’m lying on the grass outside because I feel maudlin and that’s the kind of thing maudlin people do.”

“Oh.”

He falls quiet as David’s hand slips away, leaving only the faint beat of _Come On Eileen_ to accompany the gentle splashing of Dakin’s water feature. There’s a slight rustling, and David smiles briefly as he watches Don manoeuvre himself – less than delicately, perhaps it really is a vodka orange – into a more horizontal position beside him.

“I’m not feeling all that maudlin, but do you mind some company?” Don asks, eyes fixed on the sky. “The stars are pretty clear tonight.”

David sighs, eyes closing briefly as he rolls to his own back. “You don’t have to stay here with me. I’m in a foul mood, I really should just go-“

Don shrugs. “I’ve always found a friend makes even the most maudlin of moods feel a little lighter.” A hand brushes against David’s own, hesitating momentarily before entwining their fingers. “Stay.” Another pause, as Don clears his throat. David doesn’t need to open his eyes to know Don’s the colour of a beetroot.

The melancholy that seems to reside in his very bones is still there. But in this fleeting moment as they stare up at the stars, the warmth of Don’s hand in his makes it ache a little less.

Inside, there’s a wolf-whistle – presumably further encouragement for Timms’ lap-dancing – but it doesn’t break the stillness between them. “Alright.” David swallows, gathering courage to squeeze Don’s hand lightly. “I’ll stay.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> title blatantly from dodie clark's "6/10" which inspired this fic and is the general mood of it (and me)
> 
> wasn't planning on doing one this week but i missed these two. i really appreciate comments/kudos/constructive critique.
> 
> written for thb_fictober. thank you for reading!


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